< previous page page_156 next page >

Page 156
ence to Ian's mood was because what his lord did troubled Geoffrey not at all. He had never minded a bruise or two, and he recognized that the insults came from Ian's spleen rather than from any lack in himself. Moreover, never did those insults touch or even approach any subject upon which Geoffrey was sensitive.
A terrified and uncertain adoration of the being who had rescued him from hell, who was always kind and just, was changing into a deep and abiding love in Geoffrey. It had been impossible to be secure in his adoration when he never saw his lord really out of temper. The flashes of anger that Owain had described as Ian's lack of good humor had seemed too superficial to give proof of his lord's true character. Besides, in France his father had been near, and Geoffrey feared that Ian's behavior to him was softened to give Salisbury a good impression. Now that he saw Ian at his worst, Geoffrey knew he could trust him. Thus, when a messenger came from Roselynde Keep, it was Geoffrey who led him to Ian.
He found his lord seated on a stool and leaning back against the hut's wall, with his eyes closed. For a moment Geoffrey hesitated. He knew Ian did not sleep well and was reluctant to wake him.
"Yes, what is it?" Ian snarled without opening his eyes.
"A messenger from Roselynde, lord."
Ian's eyes snapped open. Geoffrey watched with sympathy as the swarthy complexion grayed. "Well?" Ian snapped.
The man opened the saddlebag he had been carrying over his shoulder and removed a large packet of rolled documents. Color flooded back into Ian's face as he hurriedly unrolled one, then a second. The marriage contracts. A quick check showed that all five copies were the same. Five! Alinor was taking no chances. One for her, one for him, one for the local church, one for the bishop's archives and one for the king. Ian looked

 
< previous page page_156 next page >